


trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

by succulentsofa



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Ghosts, Inspired by a Harry Styles Song, M/M, Murder Mystery, One Shot, Trans Male Character, competition entry for fallenclan, fallenclan is my forum!! this is my comp ahahah, non binary character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succulentsofa/pseuds/succulentsofa
Summary: Shiverflight doesn't know what to expect when his clan moves camp, but solving a seasons-old murder with the help of a ghost would have never been his guess.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo yo!! this doesn't require any prior knowledge of anything to read, this was a comp entry for a ffnet forum. prompts used were the overall theme of 'love', and the specific prompts of 'i think i'm falling for you, and it scares me', and 'you said you loved me in the rain'.
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy!

It had been one of the hardest leafbares ever, or so Shiverflight had been informed.

He didn't know himself. He'd only been around for two leafbares, two full season cycles, and during his first leafbare, he had been a kit. He'd never felt… felt _this_ before. As a kit, everything was wrapped in a layer of fogginess and cotton, his senses dulled and cloaked from the world. Now, he was experiencing everything with a refined kind of sharpness, unable to not suffer along with the rest of his clan.

Now he was a warrior, and whilst he didn't have the prior experience of the harsh, unforgiving coldness of leafbare, he could still sense that this one was a rough one. It was freezing, and the chill cut deep into his bones. On top of that…

The camp had been flooded. Which apparently wasn't a cause to worry, it happened every few seasons, but still… it hurt to see his entire life, everything he'd ever known underwater.

Ravenstar had declared that they were moving to the other camp, and he'd nodded, and agreed with his mother. She was usually right, afterall. In both her leadership decisions, and when it came to parenting.

"Race you there." A voice hissed in his ear, before darting away again. He rolled his eyes at his brother, keeping up his steady pace.

"No, thanks." He declined politely, his gaze fixed dead-ahead. He could see the camp nearby. Hollowclan didn't stay there all season round for two reasons - one, it wasn't ideal during the summer, and two, it simply wasn't big enough for when kits would come during the greenleaf and leaffall moons.

Fawnswirl rounded back towards him, and bumped his shoulder against Shiverflight's. "You're no fun." He tutted.

"That may be true but… I intend on _not_ breaking my leg before we arrive." Shiverflight shot back. "Which usually happens when you bait me into racing you."

" _Please,_ that was a sprained paw."

"Still counted. And it had me out for a good few days - _no way_." He told his brother, trotting forwards once again.

"But the victory and the glory of winning will be well worth a sprained paw!" Fawnswirl exclaimed, catching up with him. Fawnswirl was a nimble, long-legged cat, somewhat unstable on his paws at times, but usually graceful. He tended to win more races than he lost.

Shiverflight sighed. "I thought all I could do was lose?" He said, twitching his whiskers. Fawnswirl looked momentarily confused, before he chuckled.

"Exactly. You're not racing me because you're _scared._ " Fawnswirl decided smugly.

Shiverflight elected to ignore him, skirting forwards as they approached the edge of camp. They were close, now, he could see the hollowed-out ground before him, the gaping gap in the ground that his clan were named for. In their usual camp, he'd never understood their name - Moorclan were named after the sweeping moors that they inhabited, and Pineclan after the pine trees that they made their living among, but Hollowclan had never made much sense to him.

Not until now.

From his first impressions, he rather liked the new camp. It suited them, during the leafbare, seeing as it wasn't alongside the river like their old camp was. (Hence why they'd been mercilessly flooded at the faintest touch of leafbare swollen rainclouds.)

Ravenstar lead their group, regally observing the camp with a somewhat withdrawn air. He glanced at her, and found that her attitude wasn't exactly… uncaring, she just seemed very far away.

She shook it off quickly, however, and stepped forward, the moment passing.

The camp seemed to be already decked out, prepared for their arrival. He could vaguely remember something about Ravenstar sending out a scouting patrol the previous day, and he felt a rush of gratitude for the foresight of his mother. She was an intelligent leader, quick on the uptake, and she always seemed to have a backup plan.

One of the scouts made their way over to approach them, looking weary from the day of work they'd put in, trying to make the camp presentable, and habitable. Fawnswirl besides him puffed his chest out, and Shiverflight wondered which of the patrol was his brother's fling of the moment.

Not that he was judging, or anything, he just sometimes wished that Fawnswirl would settle down, and find someone who would treat him well, instead of jumping from cat to cat like a bear hunting fresh salmon. He'd always been flighty, and prone to falling quickly, and regretfully, had been hurt because of it.

Shiverflight had given up with getting too involved, now. He just attempted to support his brother in whatever way he could, like he'd done all of his life, like he'd done when Fawnswirl had approached Ravenstar and informed her that he wasn't exactly a _she_ anymore.

That part of Shiverflight's life was so long ago that he could barely even remember it happening. It was like things were the way now, and that nothing had ever changed.

Shiverflight liked that. He had never wanted things to change. He'd been half worried that things would, when Fawnswirl admitted that, but… things had stayed the exact same between them.

"Hey, Ashhawk!" Called Fawnswirl from besides him, and ah, there was the cat of the hour. The black-spotted cat's eyes widened, but they seemed pleased when Fawnswirl approached them, purring happily, and nuzzling up against them.

Shiverflight could only suppress a sigh as he followed after his brother, hoping to glean some information about the camp. He just had to put up with the flirting.

* * *

He didn't really learn much, but he wasn't expecting to. All that he'd managed to gather was that there'd been a thick scent of foxes in the camp when the scouting patrol had first arrived, and that they'd managed to locate a water source. That was all.

He'd been worried about the mention of foxes, but Ashhawk had insisted that they were long gone, and the scents only remained because of old sets. And when he entered the warrior's den, that appeared to be the case.

The den was empty. Most of Hollowclan had left to explore the land surrounding the new camp - it wasn't far from the flooded one, but it was in a patch of territory that wasn't often visited. He was only in the den because he was, in the words of Fawnswirl, 'a lazy sod.'

He didn't deny that for one moment, but to be fair to himself, he'd spent most of the previous day helping to gather supplies for their move.

So with a sense of self-satisfaction, and rightfully earned restfulness, he sunk into a nest at the back of the den.

"It's impolite to make your way into someone's nest without asking first, y'know." A voice behind him said, and he jerked up from his state of almost-sleep, amber eyes wide.

"Who said it was your nest?" He said, looking around for the source of the voice. There was a compactly-built russet-red tom, looking scornfully at him.

The cat carried the faintest trace of Hollowclan scent, but it was likely to only be there because he'd made his home in the camp during their absence.

Which meant that this cat was an _intruder._ Someone to chase out.

Shiverflight's hackles rose, and he sprung up haphazardly from his nest, unsheathing his claws.

The tom simply chuckled, and took a gentle step back.

"Easy, tiger. No need for _that._ " He said, with a glance down at Shiverflight's paws.

Shiverflight lashed his tail, stifling a growl. "You're in our camp." He said stiffly. "What else am I supposed to do?"

The cat opened his mouth, about to reply, but before he could, Ashhawk entered the den, looking somewhat flustered.

"Hey, Shiverflight, uh-" He looked more awkward than flustered, Shiverflight realised. "Have you seen your brother?"

Shiverflight blinked at him, concerned as to why he wasn't attempting to chase the cat out like he had been. Then, he paused. What if this mysterious tom, this nest-claimer was some… some prized guest, or something? What if he'd mortally offended him?

He blinked from Ashhawk, to the cat, and back to Ashhawk again. "No…" He mumbled. "I haven't. Sorry."

Ashhawk nodded, and turned to go, before they looked back at Shiverflight. "Thanks. By the way, who were you talking to before I came in?" They raised a brow as they looked around the den, and Shiverflight's blood ran cold.

They'd looked straight past the tom. Right past him.

"I-erm…" He trailed off, awkwardly shuffling his paws, and Ashhawk took that as their cue to leave.

Shiverflight whirled around, and glared at the tom, finding himself feeling the need to be defensive. "What was that?" He hissed. "How come they couldn't see you?"

The tom sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, your friend doesn't have the sight." He poked at the nest, and Shiverflight shuddered.

The nest hadn't moved. The tom's paw had just prodded straight through the pile of heaped moss, like it wasn't even there.

"The… the _sight?_ " Shiverflight asked, growing more and more bemused. "What's that?"

"The reason you can see me." The cat answered plainly. "Not many cats have it… actually…" He trailed off. "You're the only cat I've ever met that has it. Apart from Ashspot, but everyone just thought she was crazy."

Shiverflight gasped at that. "Ashspot?" He repeated gormlessly. He wasn't usually like this - he _knew_ how to talk, knew how to form his words, but this entire situation felt ridiculous, and he wasn't properly prepared to deal with it. "Hang on, I… I _know_ Ashspot. Well. I knew her, she was an elder, but…" He frowned. "How do you know her?"

"Oh, she's dead?" The tom raised a brow. "Not surprised. And... oh. She was my mentor."

"Your mentor?" Shiverflight repeated. He felt like he was doing that a lot. "But… you're young. You're _young,_ you can't be a day over-"

"Twenty five moons? Yeah." For the first time, the tom looked… diminished. Smaller than he'd seemed before, with a haunted expression on his face. "At least, I think I _was_ twenty five moons, I'm never too sure about that one…"

"Who are you?" Shiverflight asked simply, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

"My name is Cherryfleck, and…" He met Shiverflight's gaze, unwavering. "And I'm dead." He was almost cocky in the matter-of-fact way he'd said it, a smirk on his lips. It was like he wanted to shock Shiverflight, which… which he'd succeeded in doing.

"You're dead." Shiverflight responded, struck dumb.

Cherryfleck - _a warrior name, mentored by Ashspot, pay attention to the details, Shiverflight -_ nodded. "Yeah. I just… I dunno how it happened, but I'm… I'm dead."

"Oh. Wow. Okay." Shiverflight found himself talking in short, clipped sentences, brain not quite catching up with what he was being told. "Did you used to… are you a Hollowclan cat?"

Cherryfleck only blinked at him. "Whatsat?" He asked, and Shiverflight found himself wanting to laugh outside at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Hollowclan." He repeated. "We're… I'm part of the clan. We usually live a little way away?" His words were never usually like this, never unsure. He'd always been _sure_ of himself, certain of his place in life. Not this bumbling idiot that he was currently presenting himself as.

" _Ohhhhh…_ " Cherryfleck nodded. "I might have been."

"Great." Shiverflight replied. "So. Erm… you don't know why you're…?" He couldn't say it. That would only make it clearer how ridiculous his situation was, how _surreal_ this was.

"Nah." Cherryfleck sat back, stretching, and for the first time, Shiverflight could make out the faintest markings of some kind of wound, embedded deep in his neck fur. He shifted again, and it was gone, the mark a mystery again. "I've been trying to work it out, y'know. But… it's hard. I can't leave the area around the camp, and… I don't remember much from before _this._ Just bits and pieces."

"I'll help you." Shiverflight replied gruffly. He wasn't thinking about it too much as he said it, just extending the offer of friendship, as help, as he'd do to another one of his clanmates. It was loyalty to his clan, more than anything else.

Cherryfleck blinked at him. "You sure?" He asked, not seeming like he wanted Shiverflight to back out of his offer.

"Yeah." Shiverflight said, somewhat breathlessly. "You just… don't give me any more grief about the nest."

* * *

Shiverflight didn't know what to make of Cherryfleck.

Truthfully? He was a little scared of him. He was… he was _dead,_ afterall. Passed on from the land of the living. And Shiverflight was no closer to working out how he'd died, which heightened his fear.

What if Cherryfleck had been some kind of killer? A coldhearted murderer, who had had to be put down?

At the same time…

Cherryfleck wasn't a nasty cat. He was strange, yes, and it was scary when he leaped out of bushes when Shiverflight was trying to patrol, but at the same time… he was kind. Charming. He listened to Shiverflight as he spoke about his family, about his exhaustion with his brother's… habits.

Though… Fawnswirl was staying with Ashhawk for longer than one of his usual flings. Shiverflight half wondered if he was finally settling down… he felt like they were a good match. Ashhawk was a good cat, cautious, and somewhat skittish, tempering out his brother's fire well.

Cherryfleck had told him not to worry too much about what his brother was doing. That it was his choice, and his alone, who he ended up sharing a nest with.

Shiverflight half agreed with him. He just couldn't help but worry, just out of sheer concern for his brother. Whilst he trusted his decisions, he didn't want his brother to end up with kits.

"Whatcha thinking about?" A voice hissed in his ear, and Shiverflight almost jumped out of his pelt.

_Oh._ It was just Cherryfleck. Again. Honestly, sometimes he swore that the ghost's life - death? - mission was just to terrify him.

He forced his fur to stay flat, and turned to the stocky tom. "Nothing much." He mewed nonchalantly. "Just figured I'd get in some early morning hunting."

Cherryfleck nodded. "C'mon, then." He streamed ahead, looking back around at Shiverflight. "I'll help you."

"Help?" Shiverflight looked blankly at him. "How, exactly?"

"I'll tell you where the prey is, dumbass." Cherryfleck rolled his eyes.

Shiverflight, used to insults after moons of being Fawnswirl's brother, only nodded. "Thanks." He mumbled, as he scouted the undergrowth up ahead for the gentle rustling of prey moving.

"There."

"What?" Shiverflight glanced up.

Cherryfleck flicked his tail. "There's a mouse up ahead. Think it's just behind that…" The tom trailed off, and Shiverflight looked at him, bemused. He'd just stopped talking, trailing off mid sentence, words dying as he said them.

Cherryfleck was frozen. In Shiverflight's short time of knowing him, he knew that the ghostly tom never stopped moving. He was a fidget, with lots of energy, and no way of dispelling it. He wasn't one to sit still, not one to let his mind rest.

Yet…

He was stock still, paws rooted to the ground.

"Uh…" Shiverflight attempted to nudge Cherryfleck, only to wince when his shoulder just felt cold. He couldn't touch Cherryfleck, he remembered that now, which made him feel oddly… oddly sad? It was a feeling he couldn't quite put a name to, something nostalgic, a deep-rooted, hopeless longing.

He went to budge the other tom again, shoulder brushing against bare air, but before he could, Cherryfleck started.

He was panting heavily, and had he been alive, Shiverflight knew he would have been able to see the puffs of air, showing up pale white in the chill of the day. Cherryfleck's eyes were blown wide with something akin to unadulterated fear, and Shiverflight could see that he was shaking. He was _shaking._

What in Starclan's name could terrify a ghost like that? Shiverflight didn't know, and he prayed that he'd never have to find out.

"Oi." He muttered, budging against thin-air again, just trying to get Cherryfleck to _move._ "What is it? Does the mouse have two heads or something?"

He'd never usually be this short with his friend - he guessed they were friends now - but… but he just wanted Cherryfleck to snap out of it. It was frightening _him._

Cherryfleck still didn't move. Shiverflight was ready to give up, to turn away, but then he caught the scent, and froze. He was as terrified as Cherryfleck had been, because there was the thick scent of fox.

His nostrils flared, and he unsheathed his claws, springing in front of Cherryfleck, feeling foolish as he did so.

_He doesn't need protecting. He's already dead, you idiot, and this might have been what killed him._

Still… he didn't move. He fluffed out his fur, scruff of his neck thick, and bared his teeth, narrowed eyes searching for the fox.

"Son."

Shiverflight flinched, and turned around.

His mother was there.

"Yeah?" He asked, voice still tinged with fear. He knew that she could smell it on him, but hopefully that would help alert her to the danger, and they could both get _away,_ both escape with their lives.

"It's gone." She told him, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "Me and your father chased it out, just…" She looked at him. "What are you doing so far from camp? On your own?"

He shrugged, adrenaline slowly leaving his body. "Just… exploring." He explained.

Ravenstar looked at him, concern evident in her gaze. "Be careful, alright?" She murmured, and he nodded. "When I was your age, another warrior got killed out here."

There was regret in her gaze, and Shiverflight didn't like that. His mother wasn't regretful, his mother was a strong leader, who believed in every single one of her actions with all of her heart. She didn't make mistakes, she didn't get caught up in the past.

He shivered, and nodded again, looking at the spectral form of Cherryfleck, who looked oddly pensive, almost _scared,_ gaze caught on something.

"I will." He whispered. "I promise."

* * *

He felt like time was running out.

Ever since that encounter in the woods with Ravenstar, the scent of foxes caught in his nose, he'd thought he was moments away from solving how Cherryfleck had died. From freeing his ghostly friend from the mortal plain, allowing him to ascend to Starclan.

There had been nothing, though, and he was equally as lost on how the russet-furred tom had died. He was so _sure_ it had been foxes, especially after how Cherryfleck had reacted.

He didn't know what would happen when Cherryfleck remembered how he'd died. Shiverflight prayed that he wouldn't just disappear, wouldn't just fade away into the afterlife, without giving him the chance to say goodbye.

He wasn't selfish. He'd never been selfish, always trying to put the needs of others before his own.

But he'd be lying if he said he wanted Cherryfleck to go.

He'd become attached to him, wanting to see justice served, wanting to see the mystery solved, and spending every waking moment with the ghostly tom. He still saw his brother, still spoke to his parents, but trying to work out what had killed Cherryfleck was an almost obsessive overture in his life.

He knew that once he worked it out - which he _would,_ it was all he could think about sometimes - his obsession would dry up, like a shallow stream during greenleaf, but… but for now, he clung to it. He'd always been a normal warrior, an average tom, not as flamboyant and _open_ as his brother, not as noble and wise as his mother, but just… him. Normal. Straight-forward, knowing exactly what he wanted from life.

Now? Now he was trying to solve a seasons-old mystery, working side by side with an undead cat. It made him vastly more interesting.

That carefully constructed view of himself, the cat he'd always portrayed outwardly was gone.

And Cherryfleck had flipped that view of himself on its head.

It wasn't even like they'd become best friends. Cherryfleck still mocked him more often than not, and Shiverflight often wished that there was a moment where he could grab a reprieve from the other tom. But… but he didn't want to, at the same time. Cherryfleck's taunts spurred him on, and there was fondness hidden in his words.

There were times where they were quiet, and still. Shiverflight liked those the best.

Like now. He was out - in the rain, as well - Fawnswirl on one side, and Cherryfleck padding on the other side, silent for once.

"When are we moving back?" Fawnswirl asked, inpatient as ever. Shiverflight huffed, and nudged, good naturedly, against his brother.

"When the other camp has dried up." He explained, paws slotting into muddy tracks, marks of the cats who had walked by before. "So, soon."

Fawnswirl nodded hesitantly, his steady walking turning into flighty skips, darting forward, and back again to check on his brother. "Good." He remarked. "This place _scares_ me, y'know?"

Shiverflight chuckled. "I thought you had a big, strong warrior to protect you now?" He teased, thinking about how Fawnswirl had grown so close with Ashhawk.

His brother flushed, becoming flustered, something Shiverflight rarely saw. "They're not exactly _big,_ are they?" He commented. "Or strong." He added. "So you're not actually protected at all."

Fawnswirl snorted. "It's fine. They can handle _me,_ I'm sure that counts for something."

"I'm sure Ashhawk gets their strength from Starclan… not sure any mortal possesses that kind of endurance." Shiverflight teased, smirking.

Fawnswirl batted at him with his paw, before becoming sombere. "It is scary though, isn't it?" He commented. "The… the woods and everything…"

"Very specific."

"Shut up." Fawnswirl said, his pace slowing. "It's just… it always feels like there's someone _watching_ me. It's scary."

"Yeah…" Shiverflight agreed softly. "Don't think there is, though."

"Nah." Fawnswirl glanced back at him. "Dad doesn't like it here, y'know."

Shiverflight looked pensive, brow furrowing. "Why?" He asked. He didn't think that Nightdust had shown himself to be uncomfortable with their new living solution, but then again, he wouldn't have noticed.

"He had a friend who died here." Fawnswirl explained. Shiverflight saw Cherryfleck start out of the corner of his eye, but dismissed it. Cherryfleck had been unsettled ever since the incident with the fox scent, so Shiverflight wasn't really paying too much attention to his reactions. "Could have been _more_ than friends, really, from what he said. He started to tell me more, but mum didn't want to hear it."

He frowned, and made a contemplative humming sound in the back of his throat. "Oh…" He murmured. "That makes sense. Why he wants to leave."

Fawnswirl nodded. "Yeah. Don't blame him, really, besides… our old camp is way nicer."

"Nicer when it's not six fox-lengths underwater, but yeah. It is." Shiverflight kept walking. "You wanna head back soon?" He asked Fawnswirl.

His brother nodded, still looking puzzled. "Sure." He answered, and Shiverflight glanced over at Cherryfleck again, who had stopped in his tracks.

He didn't have the time to think about it, though, because Fawnswirl took off after a bird, and Shiverflight followed after him, leaving Cherryfleck behind.

* * *

He didn't have time to think about it in the moons after. Newleaf had brought warm showers, rendering camp impossible to move back to, and he was constantly on his paws. Ravenstar had decided that Hollowclan would have festivities, when Greenleaf was upon them, and he'd spent every waking heartbeat of his day preparing for that.

There was no time for solving that seasons old mystery. No, Shiverflight's time was poured into preparing the camp for the festival, stringing up flowers, and brightening the place up.

He'd found himself caught out in the rain, though. His paws were still tangled with the vines he'd been trying to collect, and if he wasn't joined with the always-present form of Cherryfleck, he'd be scared.

But he wasn't scared. It wasn't late, and he simply had to wait out the storm. He had been concerned that he'd catch a chill from the onslaught of rain, but Cherryfleck had found a bush for him to huddle under, and he was safe. Safe - not warm, not comfortable, but safe.

"I remember the rain." Cherryfleck remarked suddenly, so quiet that Shiverflight barely picked up his words.

"I'd hope so." He said dryly, flicking his ears back again, trying to spring the water off. "We are caught in the middle of it, I'd be worried if you had _that_ bad a memory."

Cherryfleck didn't laugh at his joke, which made Shiverflight frown. It was a bad joke, but it was worthy of a pity chuckle at the least.

"I miss… I miss the rain." Cherryfleck murmured. "I miss what it felt like, y'know?"

Shiverflight bit back a barbed taunt of ' _you do not miss feeling the rain',_ and just nodded.

"Yeah." He whispered, when the silence had stretched out for too long. "I get it."

"I miss being able to feel things." Cherryfleck continued. "I miss… I miss the sun on my fur. I miss fresh mice in greenleaf. I miss… I miss having a heartbeat."

Shiverflight paused. "But you still have a heart." He pointed out. "You still… you must have some kind of memory of those things, to miss them."

"Yeah, I guess." Cherryfleck sighed. "I know I have a heart. I… I care about you. I have to have a heart to do that."

Shiverflight blinked at him, feeling a heat dusting his ear-tips that had nothing to do with the chill wrapping his bones.

He cared about him. He felt like a love-struck apprentice, caught up with his first crush, repeating that short sentence over and over again. It was like a mantra to him, a promise. Something to cling to in the dark.

Except that it was nothing like that. If he was a love struck apprentice, he could have ended up with that first cat he was sweet on.

He had no future with Cherryfleck. He couldn't. There was a veil of life and death separating them, a gap that couldn't be closed. Couldn't be closed, unless Shiverflight died, and he didn't plan on dying any time soon.

But he pushed that, those truths to the side, and did something foolish instead.

"I care about you too." He murmured. "Sometimes it scares me." He admitted softly, gaze darting away.

"Huh…?" Cherryfleck blinked at him, his mouth forming a perfect 'oh'. "It scares you?"

"Yeah." Shiverflight breathed. "Terrifies me. Because you'll be gone soon."

"Oh, honey…" Cherryfleck nestled besides him, and if Shiverflight tried hard enough, he could pretend there was a living, breathing cat pushed next to him, instead of a hollow echo. "I'm not leaving you."

Shiverflight blinked the rain out of his eyes, and swallowed. He thought he heard a low rumble from Cherryfleck, something that sounded suspiciously like ' _I love you',_ but he couldn't be too sure.

He wanted to do nothing more than return it, but he didn't.

* * *

The day it crashed and burned was a special one.

It was the day of the festival.

Shiverflight had spent the morning preparing for the gathering of his clanmates, adorning Fawnswirl and Ashhawk in twin flower crowns, preparing the newly-paired mates for the festival.

(It was nice to see his brother finally settle down. It was one less thing to worry about.)

He had Cherryfleck by his side, as always, but that was his normality. It was odd if it was anything _different._

Which was why when the tom slipped off, it came as a sudden, heart-searing shock.

He'd whispered something, low in Shiverflight's ear, before dancing off.

Something in Shiverflight asked himself if he'd ever see Cherryfleck again. He didn't know the answer.

"I _know_ him."

That was all he'd said, and then he'd gone. Crept off, without another word.

Cherryfleck had looked at Nightdust, and Shiverflight had been left to put the pieces together by himself.

He didn't think of himself as much of a thinker. He wasn't smart, or quick witted like his brother, not intelligent and refined as his mother. But… but he had a goal, a clear objective in mind, and that made it much easier.

He must have looked a mess, staring blankly ahead as the festival swirled around him, but he didn't bring himself to care. How could he, when he was so close?

He didn't like that. He didn't want to be close, because he didn't know what would happen when he knew what had happened to Cherryfleck.

Cherryfleck had somehow known Nightdust. Shiverflight thought back to tales he'd been told long ago, and he couldn't bring the dots together, couldn't dredge back any memories of being told about Cherryfleck, which meant that… that it hadn't been something his father had wanted to remember. Because Nightdust told stories. Nightdust had built up whole worlds in Shiverflight's kithood imagination, he wasn't one to leave out details.

Shiverflight's biggest link was the foxes, but that couldn't be it. Because surely Cherryfleck would have known? They were practically stood in that burrow together.

He just had the faintest echoes back to some conversations with his family. Snatches of words, leaving him to do nothing but reminisce.

" _More than friends, really."_

" _Mum didn't really want to talk about it."_

A flicker of regret in his mother's eyes, as she talked about her old, dead friend, murdered by foxes, but when he asked the ghost…

The ghost didn't remember the foxes.

Cherryfleck hadn't been scared by the foxes. When Hollowclan had arrived in the camp, the entire camp had reeked of foxes.

He would have remembered before then.

_He would have remembered before then._

What had he been scared of, then?

_Who_ had he been scared of?

Shiverflight glanced up at Ravenstar, addressing the clan, and looked around for Cherryfleck.

He couldn't see him. There was an emptiness in his heart, and Shiverflight…

Shiverflight knew he was gone. That he'd worked it out.

And with mounting despair, as he looked at the gleam in his mother's eyes, something sadist and territorial as she looked down at her mate, he worked it out too.


End file.
